


Practice

by InhumaneActivities (Bunshin)



Series: Dancer AU [1]
Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 00:49:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13776171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunshin/pseuds/InhumaneActivities





	Practice

I let out a large breath, exhaling deeply as I concentrated. My feet were placed expertly on the balance beam, my arms spread wide.

  
Currently, I’m in the basement of my roommate’s and I’s home. The four of us are professional dancers.

  
Edd, by far, is the best. He was mainly into hip-hop, and good lord, was he amazing. First glance at him, and you’d assume he’d be in the more shy kind of dancing. Then, you’d see him move. You’d have to do a double take, because _damn_ , he’s fast. Sometimes he sultry and feminine, other times he’s masculine and no one wants to mess with him.

  
Tord is pretty far up there, too. He specializes in ballroom dancing. Have you ever seen a man do such a graceful tango? I think not, I think not. Sure, his personality is... distasteful, to say the least, but it doesn’t translate into dancing. He’s enticing, smug, and hot. One moment, you're talking to your friend, watching him, then the next, you’ve switched with his partner and have been dancing with him for an hour.

  
Matt was also amazing- he usually did ballet. He was an example of elegance, no hesitation in his movements, no hint of clumsiness. He’s stood on his _toes_ more than once. And that, my friend, is fucking amazing. The ginger seems perfect for a French dance, the smug bastard. Tell him casse toi, or... something. Matt says he looks cute in a skirt, and I don’t think Edd disagrees.

  
Then, there’s me. I’m not special. I’m just... Tom Ridge. The guy who does everything okay. Hell, not even okay. I’m just there, passing with a C+. I can’t do anything. Edd is just letting me stay here out of pity. And I hate it. I really, really fucking hate it. They’re all so much better than me, but they’re too kind to shove me away.

  
I let out another shaky breath, lifting my trembling foot forward. I practiced whenever they were gone. I’d have the basement to myself, so I’d practice. I’d been practicing for a little while, doing whatever I could do just to... to do anything better. Better than what I am. Better than a disappointment, a failure, a-

  
“Shit!”

  
My foot missed the beam as I tried to speed up. Good fucking job, me. I brace myself for impact on instinct, not expecting to have someone catch me. My heels thudded against the ground, though the arms under mine were preventing anything else from hitting the floor.

  
“Well, aren’t you the embodiment of grace,” my savior snorted. When I recognized the voice, I wanted to be angry at just him. But I couldn’t. I was on the verge of tears.

  
I bit my quivering lip as I scrambled to my feet, refusing to look at that arrogant son of a bitch. “You alright, Thomas?”

  
“Fucking...” I paused, cringing at my voice crack. I took a deep breath, clenching my fists. “Fuck... fuck off.”

  
“Thomas?” He put a hand on my shoulder.

  
“God damnit, Tord, just leave, _please_ ,” I whispered. I placed my palms at the edge of my eyes, trying to ignore the urge to sniffle like a bitch. Tears were pricking my eyes.

  
“You’re crying?” Tord sounded taken aback. I shrugged his hand off me, breathing heavily.

  
“ _No_ ,” I growled. “What are you doing here, anyway? You said you were out.”

  
“When did you start practicing?” he questioned, ignoring me.

  
“Since you left,” I answered, taking a few steps away from Tord.

  
“Tom, you’ve been doing this for _three hours!”_ he hissed.

  
“Three hours?” I repeated, stilling. “Oh. That’s less than usual.” The tears were running down my face.

  
“Tom, _what_?” Tord grasped at my arm, tugging me back so I was facing him, also pulling my hand away from my eye. “You are crying!” he accused, eyes widening.

  
And I broke.

  
I hiccuped, shaking my head desperately, trying to wipe the ugly tears staining my face. “No, ‘m not crying.” Tord’s grasp tightened, and he began to tug me away.

  
“Let’s go upstairs, huh, Thomas?” he said to me, suddenly soft, pulling me towards the stairs. His voice was gentle and reassuring.

  
“Fuck off, you commie...” I attempted to sound threatening, though it didn’t work. He forced me up the stairs and into the living room, sitting me on the couch.

  
“Why are you crying, _kjære_?” Tord questioned, sitting down next to me. He placed a hand on my back.

  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean - _HIC_  - mean to bother you,” I whimpered, not even bothering to wipe my tears.

  
“Hey, hey, you’re not bothering me,” he promised. “I just wanna know what’s wrong, Tom.”

  
“It’s... it’s cuz I’m a freeloader,” I explained, voice cracking again.

  
“A freeloader?”

  
“Yes, a freeloader. You, Matt, Edd... you’re all so awesome, but I can’t do shit, ‘m just useless. Sorry.” I was trembling, standing up. I had to keep practicing.

  
“ _No_ ,” Tord snapped, “you are not useless!” He grabbed my shirt and forced me back down. He wrapped his hands around me and hugged me, causing me to freeze up. “You’re not useless. Who told you that?”

  
“Lotta people,” I sniffed, trying to relaxing my muscles.

  
“I swear, I’ll fucking kill them- no, you are not useless. Why would you ever think that?” Tord asked, loosening his grip.

  
“I can’t do anything right. I never- I never make my pay on the rent.” Shaking, I tried to wipe my tears again. “I fuck up so much. I can’t cook, can’t clean. I don’t do anything for you guys. I’m just t-there. I can’t even dance. I’m supposed to be a professional, but I can’t... I can’t even fucking dance.” I let out a large sob, not bothering to fight back when Tord forced me around, my body facing him.

  
“None of that is true,” he pressed, “you’re amazing. You’re the one who stops the three of us from doing stupid shit. You keep us grounded, Tom, on track. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

  
I shook my head, but the words were caught in my throat. Tord grabbed the side of my face, forcing me to look at him. “No, stop lying,” I finally whispered, squinting to try and stop the tears.

  
“I’m many things, but I’m not a liar, Tom,” he replied.

  
“Tord,” I whined solemnly. I repeated his name over and over again, pressing my head into his shoulder and clutching his sweatshirt. He just kept rubbing my back, whispering incoherent Norwegian into my ear.

 


End file.
